


In Your Orbit

by JasonVoorhees



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Quantum Shenanigans, Starscream doing his best, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasonVoorhees/pseuds/JasonVoorhees
Summary: Starscream's running Cybertron, and things are going pretty well. He just hasn't come to terms with his feelings for Wheeljack. Things are further complicated one fine morning when Starscream encounters a mysterious light.
Relationships: Starscream/Wheeljack (Transformers)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a canon divergence. Let's say Unicron never showed up and Cybertron didn't go to hell in a handbasket.

Starscream wakes up with his face on his desk. These days, unfortunately, it’s a common occurrence. He straightens up, groaning and blinking his optics awake, and checks the time. 0800. That’s fine. It’s a little later than he normally comes out of recharge, but he’s conveniently already in his office. No travel required.

He shuffles through the stack on his desk trying to find the datapad with his appointments, knocking several on the floor as he does. When he locates it, he’s relieved to find that the day isn’t packed. He’s supposed to get his weekly report from Ironhide at 0900. Windblade wants to talk about doing upkeep surveys or something at 1000. Then he has to go with her to the opposite side of the city so she can show him some structural problems they’re having with something or other. After that he has a tiny bit of free time, then something with a construction foreman about the site for the new science academy. Starscream drags himself upright, chugs a cube of energon from the reserves he keeps in his office for this very reason, and heads downstairs to check on Wheeljack.

Starscream had provided Wheeljack with a lab in the government building so Wheeljack could keep him updated on all his various city-related projects. That’s what he’d told Wheeljack, anyway, and it was true. It just wasn’t the only reason. The main reason was that Starscream had spent far, far too many times checking up on Wheeljack when he was in the repair tank, floating between life and death. And since Wheeljack had rejoined the land of the living, Starscream had had far too many nightmares about the aftermath of the incident. Kneeling in the dirt, desperately gathering pieces of Wheeljack’s head. The hours and hours spent fitting his broken body back together, hoping against hope he could bring him back.

But he did do it. Wheeljack is alive, and the only person in the entire universe who genuinely considers Starscream a friend. Starscream is damned if he’s going to let anything bad happen to him ever again. He hasn’t told Wheeljack that, either. As much as he trusts Wheeljack and… yes, cares about him, he doesn’t know how receptive Wheeljack would be to all that. He cares about Wheeljack more than he’s cared about anyone in a long, long time, and frankly, that terrifies him. Since for some reason he can’t bring himself to lie to Wheeljack, he just avoids certain subjects entirely.

So for Wheeljack’s benefit as well as his own, Starscream goes to see him every morning.

Wheeljack is used to it. He smiles as soon as Starscream walks in. Wheeljack smiles with his eyes, and Starscream doesn’t think any bot with a mouth could compete with that smile. He files that under Things He Doesn’t Plan To Tell Anyone, Ever, and smiles back.

“Mornin’, Starscream,” Wheeljack says. “How’s your day going?”

Starscream strolls over to see what he’s working on. It’s the gravity recalibrator he’d told Starscream about yesterday, in so much detail that Starscream had gotten caught up in it and been late for the delegate meeting. “Well, I haven’t done anything yet,” Starscream says, “but it’s not off to a great start. I fell asleep at my desk last night.”

“Ah,” says Wheeljack. “Sure you don’t want me to install a recharge slab in there?”

“No, no. How would that look to the delegates?” Starscream grimaces. “They’d start criticizing me more than they already do.”

“Who cares what they say?” Wheeljack says. “If ya need rest, ya need rest. It ain’t their business anyway.”

“Business or not, there’s always someone scrutinizing every move I make.” Starscream narrows his optics. “Trying to find a reason to get rid of me.”

“Aw, I don’t think there’s that many,” Wheeljack says brightly. “Yer doin’ a real good job.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Starscream preens. “Cybertron’s doing better than it has in _millennia_.”

“Yeah!” Wheeljack agrees. “See? Yer provin’ all the haters wrong.”

“But still,” Starscream says. “I’ll pass on the recharge slab.” He points to the device Wheeljack’s holding. “Looks like you’re almost done with that.”

“Yep,” says Wheeljack. “Then I’m gonna start this filter that Windblade asked for.”

“For the sewer systems?” Starscream inquires, recalling something about that in one of the city-speaker’s many reports. Oh yeah, that’s what he’s supposed to go look at that today. Right.

“Uh-huh. I’ll tell you all about it, but I think it’ll take too long if I get into it now.” Wheeljack grins. “Ya don’t wanna be late for another delegate meeting.”

Starscream deflates slightly. “I don’t have any with them today, but I suppose you’re right. I’ll see you this evening?”

“Sure thing.” Wheeljack waves to him as Starscream reluctantly exits the lab. He checks his chronometer. Wheeljack’s right, it’s nearly time to meet Ironhide.

Ironhide greets Starscream politely, as he does most of the time, but he’s nowhere near as enthusiastic as Wheeljack. No one except for Wheeljack is ever _that_ happy to see him. Ironhide tells Starscream they haven’t had any big issues this week but reads him the whole report anyway. He takes so long that by the time he’s done, Windblade is hovering in the doorway looking a bit impatient herself.

The second Ironhide’s done talking she comes in and pulls out her datapad, not even giving Starscream a moment to pause. But everybody does that. His time is in demand—he’s in charge of everything. He thinks he probably needs a break, but his detractors are undoubtedly waiting for just that.

Windblade starts talking about the survey committee, a small group she’d put together to monitor areas of the city for needed maintenance. Metroplex, she’d explained, was having difficulty pinpointing the smaller issues. “So I’d like to expand the survey committee,” she’s saying now. “The problems seem to be springing up a lot more recently.”

“If you expand the survey committee,” Starscream says, “We’ll have to hire more bots for maintenance, won’t we?”

“Yes,” Windblade agrees, “But I believe it will only need to be a temporary expansion. Once Metroplex is in full health we shouldn’t be finding nearly as many issues.” Apparently sensing Starscream’s reluctance, she pulls up several metrics on her datapad to show him, and explains exactly how many more people they’ll need and a projected end date. She’s terribly efficient, and good at her job. Too bad she and Starscream annoy the crap out of each other. “I’ve taken the liberty of putting together a list of candidates,” she says, opening the file and handing the datapad over.

“Of course you have,” Starscream says, and glances over the list. Maybe she isn’t that efficient. There are a lot of morons on it. “How did you put this together, exactly?” He asks.

“There are quite a few former Decepticons looking for work,” she said. “I spoke to Dirge and he helped me recruit some of them.”

“Dirge?” Starscream says drily. “I wouldn’t trust Dirge’s recommendations. He’s not very bright. And neither are most of bots on your list. I doubt they’d be very helpful.”

Windblade bristles. “They seemed competent enough when I talked with them.”

“Then maybe you’re not the best judge of character. I’ve _worked_ with plenty of them and they’re painfully inept.” Starscream dismissively hands the datapad back to her.

Windblade snatches it from his hand. “They’re looking for work. I thought the idea of a new Iacon was to give people a chance to move on from the war.”

“It’s nothing to do with the _war_ ,” Starscream says, annoyed. “They’re just not good at their jobs.”

“You know, Starscream,” Ironhide pipes up, because he’s been irritatingly listening in. “If they were, they were bad at being soldiers. They could be plenty competent at working in the city.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Starscream snaps, because of course Ironhide is going to side with Windblade.

“What did you mean, then?” Windblade says. “That they’re stupid? Because they never went to the Cybertron Science Academy, they’re blithering idiots?”

“They _are_ idiots, but it has nothing to do with education levels,” Starscream seethes. “Maybe I’ll consider your proposal if you put together a new candidate list.”

Windblade glowers at him, then turns on her heel and stalks out. Starscream glares at Ironhide, who shakes his head and leaves.

Now he’s got a fucking headache, but he yesterday he foolishly agreed to go with Windblade so she could show him what was going on with the sewer filtration system and why they needed to spend so much money on premium materials to fix it with. Wonderful. Now it was sure to be a riveting trip.

He’s got just enough time to grab some energon before meeting back up with Windblade. He’s still pissed off, and she obviously is too. They speak as little as possible while setting off across the city.

Even if he has to fly with Windblade, Starscream still enjoys flying. It’s a relief to be up and away from the ground for awhile. He barely notices how long the trip is, and before he knows it they’re landing and speaking to each other in short, frosty sentences. Windblade explains as curtly as possible that parts of old Iacon that Metroplex integrated with are incompatible with his systems, and they need to upgrade them or they’ll be looking at widespread contamination. She brusquely points out several examples, Starscream snappily agrees, and they head back to the government offices.

He’s grudgingly thinking that he does prefer going with Windblade, because if he’d gone with Ironhide he’d either have to slow down or zig zag to follow the roads like an idiot. It isn’t the first time he’s thought this, and at some point he’d pondered why he didn’t apply the same logic to traveling with Wheeljack. He’d concluded that he’d be happy to walk anywhere in the city with Wheeljack, and that tipped him off that his feelings for the scientist might be more complex than he’d originally thought. So like many other feelings he didn’t know how to deal with, he threw them in his Nope folder and didn’t think about them.

Or, he wasn’t supposed to. He’s thinking about them right now, though, and he’s apparently not paying as much attention to his flight path as he thought, because a blinding light blossoms up and engulfs him until he can’t see anything at all.

His headache is gone when he wakes up. But he’s in his office again, at his desk. How did he get back here? He can’t remember. He stands up and stumbles a little. He’s fucking starving, what time is it? He grabs some more energon from his office stash and goes to find Windblade so she can explain what the hell happened. She doesn’t sound angry anymore when he comms her, just surprised, and he makes a beeline for her office.

“Hello,” she says when he comes in, looking mildly confused. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Starscream says. “What the fuck happened? I don’t remember coming back here.”

“Oh,” says Windblade. “You never actually left. When I got here an hour ago you were sleeping at your desk.”

“What?” says Starscream. “I mean on the way back from looking at the filtration systems.”

“Do you mean… when I came back? Or did you decide to go without me?” Windblade sighs. “I don’t care if you already went, I still need to show you the parts that are eroding.”

“You did,” Starscream says, and he’s getting impatient.

“No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” Windblade replies. “But since you’re here, I can tell you about the survey committee expansion.”

“The—you already told me about that, what are you playing at?” Starscream narrows his optics.

Windblade just looks befuddled. “When would I have had time to tell you about it? Yesterday we were bogged down with all the delegate meetings.”

“This morning!” Starscream says. “You told me this morning, at 1000!”

Windblade frowns. “Starscream, it’s 0830.”

Frustrated, Starscream checks his chronometer. It does say 0830. He strides to the window, and realizes that what he’d taken for evening dusk was actually the spreading light of dawn. He missed an entire half a day? Why was Windblade saying the delegate meetings were yesterday, then? He stiffens, suddenly, as he realizes. She’s messing with him. She’s obviously still upset about the whole committee thing and she’s being an ass by pretending they haven’t talked about any of it yet. He turns to glare at her. “Ha, ha,” he says. “Funny. I suppose I’m not going to get a straight answer from you.” He stalks out of her office.

Fine. Let Windblade play her little games. He’ll go to Ironhide and see if he knows. He goes back to his office fully intending to summon Ironhide there, but Ironhide’s milling around outside.

“Oh hey,” Ironhide says. “Done with Wheeljack already?”

“Wheeljack?” Starscream repeats. “I don’t—listen, what happened yesterday when Windblade and I got back from across the city?”

“Uh,” says Ironhide, “By ‘across the city’, do you mean the meeting hall downstairs? It was pretty late when you all finished.”

“No,” says Starscream. “When we went to look at the water systems. After we argued.”

Ironhide just blinks at him. “I think you’re asking the wrong bot. I don’t remember an argument. Anyway, I know I’m a little early, but do you want to go ahead and get started?”

Starscream stares blankly at him, realizing that he didn’t check to see what his appointments are today. Did he have another one already with Ironhide? Whatever. “Yes. Fine,” he says, and ushers Ironhide into his office.

Ironhide takes out his datapad and starts talking. He starts the same way he did yesterday, and Starscream groans. “Yes, yes, you told me all this already. Just get to the stuff we haven’t covered.”

Ironhide frowns. “I didn’t think I’d passed that on yet, but, okay, I’ll skip ahead.” He goes on to his next point, which is exactly the same as yesterday’s second point.

Starscream frowns. “You told me that too.”

Ironhide pauses, and gives Starscream a suspicious look. “All right…” He jumps ahead, again, to yesterday’s third topic.

Starscream stands up so fast he knocks his chair over. “Ironhide, are you deliberately wasting my time?”

“Wow,” says Ironhide. “If you didn’t want the whole report, just say so. I’ll transmit it to you and you can read it on your own time.” Ironhide stands, gathering his datapads, and leaves Starscream’s office, clearly irritated.

Windblade peers in a moment later. “He finished that a lot faster than usual,” she says. “Can I show you what I have for the survey committee expansion request?”

“No,” Starscream says sharply. “And you need to be more professional, this is ridiculous.” He strides past her, ignoring her indignant “What?” Ironhide’s either losing all his memory banks or he’s part of this stupid prank too. Well, Starscream’s going to tell Wheeljack that his so-called friends are acting like children.

Wheeljack isn’t in his lab. Starscream panics momentarily before he spots a note on Wheeljack’s typing desk.

Scrawled on the note is, “I’ve gone looking for a part I need, might take a few. Sorry I missed you, Starscream. Talk to you later! –Wheeljack”

Starscream rereads the note. He’d missed his usual morning lab visit, and Wheeljack had written that he was sorry. Sorry he didn’t get to see Starscream. He’s disappointed that he won’t see Wheeljack until this evening, but he’s also oddly happy to see the note. He rereads it a couple of times, and is interrupted by an annoyed-sounding Windblade on his comm link, telling him to hurry up so they can get this trip over with. Her dumb prank doesn’t seem that infuriating anymore, so, fine, he’ll play along and see how long she can keep it up.

He meets up with her and they take off. On the way, she icily asks if he’d like to talk about the committee _now?_ He agrees, and she starts explaining everything from the top, as if he’d had no objections at all the first time. He doesn’t say anything until she’s finished, then gives her a noncommittal “I’ll get back to you about it.”

They reach the water filtration area, and she once again goes through the exact same parts, saying the exact same things with a completely straight face. She’s committed to the joke, he’ll give her that. As before, they don’t talk on the way back. Starscream keeps a sharp eye on his path and surroundings, looking for anything that could have caused that light yesterday.

His path is completely clear, and the light comes from nowhere at all. One second there’s nothing, then it’s everywhere.

He comes out of recharge, and without onlining his optics, he knows he’s slumped over his desk. Starscream slowly sits up and checks his chronometer. 0800. The day? 42nd cycle. The day before yesterday. Something is not right. He comms Windblade, again, and she sounds surprised, again.

“Hello,” she says when he arrives at her office. “What’s going on?”

He pauses. Something isn’t right. Would Windblade and Ironhide really pull this kind of thing? The kind of thing that’ll snarl official government operations? Maybe. Maybe not.

“What’s your chronometer say?” He asks.

Windblade checks. “0815.”

“The day.”

“42nd cycle. Why? Did you forget what day it was because you fell asleep at your desk?”

Starscream isn’t quite ready to believe her yet. “What did we do yesterday?”

Windblade looks suspicious. “Delegate meetings. Is this some kind of test?”

“Perhaps,” says Starscream. “You want to talk to me about the survey committee today?”

“That’s the plan, yes.” She still looks suspicious, like _he’s_ the one who’s acting bizarre.

“Do you have a new candidate list?”

She narrows her eyes. “I haven’t given you the first one yet. Did someone say something about it to you?”

“You did,” Starscream says, and leaves before she can reply. He goes to his office and Ironhide is there. Again.

“Oh hey,” he says. “Done with Wheeljack already?”

Wheeljack. Shit. He’s going to miss Wheeljack. He turns and heads for the lab.

“I take it that’s a no,” Ironhide calls after him.

Starscream calls back over his shoulder, “What’s the date today?”

“42nd?” Ironhide replies, sounding confused. Starscream’s already rounded the corner and started running.

He finds the lab empty again, with the same note. Wheeljack, he knows, wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t take part in any twisted pranks that would make Starscream feel like shit and doubt his own mind and increase his paranoia. To prove it, he calls Wheeljack. It goes to message, which means his comms are off. Starscream stands in the lab for a while, his brain module spinning.

Maybe he’s having a nightmare. Eventually he goes back to his office, now very late for his appointment with Ironhide.

It’s still the same, though. Ironhide reads the entire report while throwing cautiously concerned glances when he thinks Starscream’s not looking. Starscream just sits quietly and listens to the whole thing. Then Windblade comes in, and he sits and listens to her go over her whole committee proposal for the third time. When she’s done, he tells her he needs to reschedule the cross-city trip for tomorrow. She agrees without protest. Maybe he looks like shit.

He doesn’t care. He stays in his office, reading and signing documents and plotting out a very roundabout course for him and Windblade to take tomorrow so they won’t be anywhere near that horrible light.

Rattrap comes along in the afternoon with a datapad from the Velocitron Delegate, and he opens his mouth to ask Rattrap what the delegate wants but he doesn’t get that far. The light engulfs his office.

He punches his desk. It’s a fucking time loop, isn’t it. He bolts up, stomps to his energon stores, and comms Ironhide after chugging a cube.

“Yeah?” says Ironhide, and he’s barely gotten the word out before Starscream demands the date.

“It’s the 42nd?” Ironhide says, and Starscream can’t take it.

“It’s not!” he screams at Ironhide. “It’s _not_ , it’s supposed to be the 46th, why can’t you just fucking tell me that!”

“The hell,” says Ironhide. “Sorry you got your days mixed up.”

Starscream unleashes a string of expletives at him before abruptly cutting the connection. Then he runs to Wheeljack’s lab, and he’s sure he’ll make it in time.

Wheeljack isn’t there, but the note is. That’s not right. If this is a time loop (and angrily, he’s admitting that’s probably what it is) then everything should be going exactly the same, right? He checks the time, and it’s 0815. That’s when he arrived at the lab on the first of these stupid days. Wheeljack should be here. He tries comming him, but just like last time, it goes to message. Panic starts building in his chest. He _needs_ to see Wheeljack, he needs Wheeljack’s help with this, and for the love of Primus he needs to see that Wheeljack is still alive. Fuck. Fuck.

Starscream paces back and forth, his head in his hands. Quantum Mechanics is most certainly not his field, but he knows some of the basic theories.

So. Logically, if it’s a loop, then Wheeljack is most certainly alive. Because it hasn’t really been four days. It’s the same day over and over. For everyone except him. Starscream sinks onto a stool by one of the worktables, and thinks.

If he’s the only thing different in these days, than everyone else will keep doing the same things until _he_ changes it. Anything different has to be a result of something he’s done. Well, the only thing he’s done so far this time is scream at Ironhide.

The only conclusion he can draw from that is that Ironhide must have complained to Wheeljack about getting cussed out, and Wheeljack ducked out early to avoid Starscream’s bad mood. That would also explain why his comms are off. It’s not an unusual thing for anyone to do, but thinking that Wheeljack is avoiding him cuts deep, and it _hurts_. He doesn’t like it one bit.

He decides to be angry about it instead of sad like his brain wants him to be, and he doesn’t leave the lab. He’s going to stay there all day until Wheeljack comes back. A little after 0900, Windblade comms him, asking about the goddamn survey committee. He snaps and snarls at her until she disconnects with some colorful name-calling of her own.

Wheeljack doesn’t come back. It’s 1230, and Starscream is pretty sure that’s about the time he and Windblade finished up their original sewer tour. He tries to think about what time it was not-yesterday when Rattrap came by. Almost 1300? Then it probably doesn’t matter where he is. It happens at the same time regardless.

Two things occur to Starscream then. The first is that since he’s now screamed at Windblade too, she might also pass that along to Wheeljack and Wheeljack will purposefully not come back to the lab. The second is that even if she doesn’t, Wheeljack might not come back until after the damn light happens. He monitors his chronometer so he’ll at least know when it happens, and at 1303 the light engulfs him.

Starscream drums his fingers on the desk. It’s the same date and time, again, so, okay. Definitely a loop. And no matter where he is, it seems, he’ll be jolted back at 1303 to start this damned day over. He has no idea how he got stuck, but he’s trying to think of ways to get out. Unfortunately, all he can think of are some of Deadlock—no, Drift, he corrects himself—some of Drift’s dumb religious ramblings. Drift had some sort of “come-to-Primus” experience and had been insufferably annoying ever since, going on about auras and meditation and gods and quoting scripture. Thank Primus he left on the Lost Light. Anyway. He recalls Drift telling some heavily-moral-laden story about a time loop and atoning for your sins. It was all rubbish, of course, but it’s the only thing he has.

So what he’ll do is sit through Ironhide’s report again, and Windblade’s proposal, and he’ll _try_ not to be so bitchy about it. First, though, he needs to talk to Wheeljack. He always feels better after talking to Wheeljack.

As soon as he thinks that he realizes he’s spent too much time sitting at his desk working all this out, and it’s 0830. Fuck. Starscream stands abruptly and hurries to the lab, and although he knows he’s too late, he still feels his spark sinking when he reaches the lab and it’s empty. It sinks further when he attempts to call him and can’t get through.

He doesn’t know if he can do this without seeing Wheeljack. Starscream clenches his fists and chews on his lip. It’s only, what, the fifth time he’s restarted this day? And the loop is only five hours. So it’s not like it’s been _that_ long since he’s seen Wheeljack. He needs to stop being pathetic and figure a way out of this.

He turns to go and sees another note, which he immediately pounces on. It’s slightly different than the other two times. It still says “sorry I missed you, talk to you later” but after that, before Wheeljack’s signature, is “looking forward to seeing you.” What did he do to make the note change? He thinks about it for a moment. It’s probably what he _didn’t_ do. He hasn’t spoken to anyone yet today. In Starscream’s mind, that cements his theory that Windblade and Ironhide are warning Wheeljack of Starscream’s bad moods. The note’s nicer because Wheeljack must have assumed Starscream was in a good mood.

That doesn’t make sense, he tells himself. Why would Wheeljack do that? He’s gone to see him while crabby and Wheeljack didn’t act any different. At least, he doesn’t think so.

Starscream shakes his head. He should stop overthinking it, but he didn’t get where he is without assuming everyone’s out to get him. Because most of them _are,_ this way he’s always prepared. He crumples the note and tosses it back on the desk, then goes to find Ironhide.

Starscream sits through the entire fucking report again, and Windblade’s proposal again, and tries his hardest not to be so nasty. He thinks it kind of works, because when he and Windblade head out across the city, she makes polite (but still short) conversation.

They’re actually having a reasonable discussion about the filtration system on the way back, and Starscream is mid-sentence when the light appears.

He wakes again. Starscream stands up and angrily grabs his energon. As he’s chugging it, he thinks, why don’t I try to do things exactly the same as the first day? Get up, fuel, talk to Wheeljack, listen to Windblade and Ironhide, start an argument. Maybe that’ll do it. He throws the empty cube on the floor and goes to the lab.

Wheeljack’s not there, and he wants to scream. He does scream a little, actually, but he doesn’t feel any better. What the fuck did he possibly do? Why isn’t Wheeljack here? He hasn’t had time to do anything. All he did was throw his empty energon cube on the floor instead of putting it back by his desk. Is that it? He tries the comms. Nothing.

Starscream stomps out of the lab. He does know a theory, but it’s a stupid one. The left step effect. If you take a left step instead of a right step, it will start one small change that will just keep rolling. It’s not instantaneous, though, so why the hell would it make a difference here? It’s possible that the effect works differently in quantum mechanics, but he doesn’t know. All he knows is he misses Wheeljack.

Well. He knows Wheeljack probably won’t be back before the loop resets, so he’s just going to have to find out where he went. He comms Rattrap and tells him to reschedule all his appointments for today. Then he starts going around asking everyone if they know where Wheeljack went.

“I have no idea,” Windblade says. “Did you clear out your whole day for Wheeljack?” Surprisingly, she doesn’t sound upset, just curious.

“Yes,” Starscream says. “I can’t find him and his comms are off.” He pauses. “I’m worried.”

That immediately gets Windblade’s attention, and she says, “I’ll go ask around. Someone must have seen him.”

Ironhide says the same thing, and Starscream continues his own interrogations throughout the building. When he meets back up with them several hours later, all they’ve managed to find are a couple of bots who saw Wheeljack leaving the building, but no one has any idea where he went.

“I’ll put out an APB,” Ironhide decides. “He’s probably fine, but you know, just to be safe.”

Starscream is mildly comforted by the fact that Ironhide and Windblade seem almost as worried as he is. Not knowing what else to do, he decides to fly around looking for Wheeljack. Ironhide assures Starscream he’ll call him if they find anything out.

Starscream transforms and takes off. He has no clue where to start, so he begins a methodical inspection of the areas around the government building and works his way out. He hasn’t gotten much covered by the time the light returns.

He blinks awake at his desk. He checks his chronometer, and it’s the 42nd. He doesn’t get up. Why should he? He’ll just to do it again not-tomorrow. So he locks the door, lays down on the floor, and stares at the ceiling, thinking about Wheeljack deliberately avoiding him, or being in trouble somewhere. Which is worse? Well, he would actually prefer Wheeljack avoiding him. He knows he has a bristly personality and a horrible temperament. He had just hoped that Wheeljack actually, truly liked him.

He doesn’t get up. Ironhide knocks on the door at 0900, and Starscream just says, “Go away.” He’s too tired to scream it. He’s too tired to deal with anything.

Sometime later, probably 1000, Windblade knocks on the door. He also tells her to go away. She asks if he’s going to come out of his office today. He doesn’t answer.

Rattrap comes by soon after that, asking if there’s any messages he should be taking to people about, perhaps, Starscream taking the day off. Starscream tells him to go away.

Wheeljack doesn’t come by. No one else does either. Maybe by staying in his office, he can change it so Wheeljack comes back earlier. He knows it’s nonsense, but Starscream lays there, thinking very, very hard about Wheeljack coming to his office, full of concern for Starscream’s well-being. He tries to will the scenario into existence, but it never comes. All that comes is the light, and Starscream turns off his optics and lets it take him.

Starscream wakes up at his desk, and the first thing he does is think that the damn time loop didn’t even have the consideration to leave him on the floor. The second thing he does is scream into his hands, and the third thing he does is jump over his desk and _sprint_ to Wheeljack’s lab. He doesn’t fuel up, or comm Ironhide, or ask anyone the date, he just runs as fast as he can because he _has_ to get there in time. He has no other options, and he can’t stand not seeing Wheeljack any longer.

The lab door is shut. And it’s locked, the red light glowing menacingly from beside the door. Why would it be locked? It’s 0805. Wheeljack knows that Starscream always comes by in the mornings. He must be in there, because it’s never locked when Starscream finds the note. Maybe he’s about to unlock it, but Starscream can’t wait. He knocks on the door, his spark pulsing wildly, and says, “Wheeljack?”

And Wheeljack answers, thank Primus, his voice is beautiful but what he says isn’t. “Hey Starscream! I’m sorry, but I’m workin’ on a super time-sensitive project. We can talk later today, yeah?”

What? No. What? “No, we can’t. Wheeljack, open the door.”

“I can’t, Starscream,” comes the reply, although it sounds reluctant. “I’m real sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you later, we can talk science all evening. I swear.”

Panic is welling up in Starscream, because he hasn’t done anything to cause this. He’s just early. That’s all! And this is the first time he’s managed to catch Wheeljack since the start of this primus-forsaken nightmare loop. He needs Wheeljack, not just for help, and not just to know he’s alive but because he desperately wants to see him and talk to him and Starscream knows that even if he’s still stuck he’ll feel better. If he can just get to him. “We can’t talk later,” Starscream says, because he’ll never _get_ to the evening. There’s nothing for him after 1303 but the same things over and over and over and over. He knocks again with both fists, his voice breaking as he wails, “ _Please,_ Wheeljack.”

Then he hears Wheeljack stumble across the lab and seconds later the door is open, and he’s staring into Wheeljack’s wide optics, finally. Starscream lunges inside, grabbing Wheeljack’s wrists because he’s not letting him fucking escape this time. “Please. Please help me,” is all Starscream gets out.

“What’s wrong?” Wheeljack says, and he sounds so concerned that Starscream wants to cry. He opens his mouth and a sob escapes. Wheeljack immediately steers him to a chair and gently pushes him down into it. Starscream won’t let go of him, so Wheeljack gets down on one knee in front of him. Starscream is so relieved to see him that he just sits there for a few minutes, gripping Wheeljack’s wrists and trying to calm down.

“Starscream,” Wheeljack says, his tone distressed. “Starscream, please talk to me. What’s the matter?”

“I can’t,” Starscream manages. “I can’t get to tomorrow. I’m stuck.”

Wheeljack’s optics widen in horror, and he grasps Starscream’s hands, which, usually someone would get blasted for, but Starscream holds on tight. “Oh primus,” Wheeljack says. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry Star, I didn’t realize.”

Starscream is startled both by Wheeljack calling him Star (why? No one’s called him that in so long) and the fact that Wheeljack is... Apologizing? For the time loop?

Oh.

Relief, annoyance, and for some reason fondness flood Starscream’s spark. “Wheeljack,” he says. “Did you do this?”

Wheeljack gets that sheepish look on his face and he doesn’t even have to say anything. “It was, uh, an accident.”

Starscream can’t even be mad at him. He wants to, but he’s so relieved that he finally got to Wheeljack and that Wheeljack actually knows what’s going on, and now that he’s found him his panic and paranoia is finally starting to dissipate. “What did you do?” he asks.

“I was tryin’ to fix an old quantum generator.” Wheeljack’s finials turn a deep pink. “God, I am so sorry Starscream. I had no idea. I guess—you were the only one who came by the lab that day. This day. That must be why ya got dragged in.”

“I was looking for you,” Starscream says quietly.

Wheeljack’s face cycles through several emotions, most of them related to horror. “Oh shit,” he says. “I kept dippin’ out. I thought you were just gonna come by to chat at the same time each morning then go about yer business. Oh my god, Starscream, are you okay?”

“I am now,” Starscream says. “I just—I thought I was the one changing what happened.” He pauses, as things start to sink in. “But I wasn’t. I wasn’t affecting your actions at all.”

“No,” Wheeljack says, “No, ya sure weren’t. They were all new days for me too.”

“Why did you leave?” Starscream asks, and he’s amazed at how composed he is compared to a few minutes earlier. The wonders of being with Wheeljack, apparently. “Why did you turn off your comms?”

“Oh Primus,” Wheeljack says. “You were tryin’ to call me. I’ve been goin’ to Brainstorm’s old lab. He’s got a flux capacitor in there somewhere, and I think that’ll get this hunk of junk workin’ right. He’s also got a ton of other garbage in there that interferes with comm links.” Wheeljack squeezes Starscream’s hands. “I haven’t found it yet. I kept leavin’ earlier and earlier so I’d have more time to search… What did—what happened in your days?”

“The same shit,” Starscream says. “Same day.” He stands, pulling Wheeljack up with him. “But if there’s a way to fix it, let’s go. We can talk while we look.”

“Yeah,” says Wheeljack. “Right. Good idea.” He takes a step towards the door, pauses, and smiles at Starscream. “No need for a note this time.” He doesn’t let go of Starscream’s hand.

Starscream spends the trek to Brainstorm’s lab trying to absorb and reevaluate everything he’s experienced in the past seven—eight, now—repeated loops. It’s after they get to the lab and start searching in the areas Wheeljack hasn’t looked yet that Starscream speaks up.

“You weren’t avoiding me.”

Wheeljack glances at him, surprised, and says, “Never,” as if it’s normal to not avoid Starscream. “I just—I didn’t think it mattered because the time was resetting anyway.” His voice sounds pained.

“But you left the notes,” Starscream says. “Even though you thought I wasn’t in the loop. Even though you thought I’d forget.”

“Oh!” says Wheeljack. “Well. I didn’t want ya to be upset. Even for a little bit.” He pauses. “I screwed that up royally, huh?”

“The notes helped,” Starscream says. “I was frustrated, though.” He pulls out a drawer and sifts through it. “First I thought Ironhide and Windblade were messing with me. Then I thought I was causing you to leave. I yelled at Ironhide one of the days and I couldn’t understand why you’d left so early. I thought he’d told you I was in a rotten mood and that’s why you skipped out and turned off your comms.”

“Absolutely not,” says Wheeljack. “Who’s gonna avoid you just ‘cause you’re crabby?”

“Who isn’t?” Starscream says. “I know for a fact people dole out Starscream Mood Warnings, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Ironhide and Windblade did it. I’d almost expect it, actually.” With that thought, Starscream hurls the now-empty desk drawer into the adjoining room.

Wheeljack laughs. “They wouldn’t do that. They know I always wanna see you.”

“You do?” Starscream stops with the next drawer halfway out. He knows Wheeljack considers him a friend, but he frequently suspected his daily visits might be a little stifling.

“Yeah, I like talkin’ to you every morning,” Wheeljack says, and he’s looking sheepish again, but it’s not the same. It’s not a look Starscream’s seen on him before, and it makes Starscream very nervous.

“You... I like talking to you every morning too,” Starscream says cautiously. 

Wheeljack’s finials light up and he beams at Starscream. “Good! I’m glad I can help you start your days on a positive note.”

Starscream wants to hug him. When’s the last time he hugged somebody and it wasn’t some kind of ruse? “Thank you,” he says instead. “That... That means a lot. I don’t think anyone else cares about m—my days."

“Oh, Windblade and Ironhide do,” Wheeljack says. “Mostly because you’re harder for them to deal with when you’re mad, but they know I like you too, so... uh... yeah.”

“Because we’re friends?” Starscream asks, slowly, because he can see this conversation crashing down like a leaning stack of empty cubes. Teetering on the edge, ready to fall with one wrong word.

“Of course we're friends,” Wheeljack says, his finials tinted pink. “I care about you.”

Starscream swallows what he wants to say. The feelings swirling around in him are so foreign he’s not even sure if he’s identifying them correctly, but one of the catalysts here is that Starscream just spent eight half-days in this nightmarish time loop, getting increasingly miserable and frustrated, and now he knows Wheeljack was responsible and he’s _not even mad at Wheeljack._ Instead, he’s ten times happier just being with him.

He knows he cares about Wheeljack. But he might _love_ Wheeljack. Now, obviously, is not the time to bring that up. In fact, never might be a good time. Was Starscream going to scare off the only real friend he’d had in millions of years? No. Absolutely, positively no. “I care about you too,” Starscream says. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“Well, I wanna be clear about it,” Wheeljack says. “I’m not gonna avoid you just because you’re a little grumpy some days.” He pauses. “Y’know, I’m actually not gonna avoid you for any reason.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Starscream says, but god does he want to.

Wheeljack shrugs. “Well it’s true.”

“What if I’m on the warpath?” Starscream posits. “A full blown Devastator-style fury?”

Wheeljack thinks for a moment. “I guess I’d try to figure out why you were mad. Let you talk it out.”

“Huh,” Starscream says. Holy shit. Is Wheeljack serious? He really cares about Starscream that much? Or, wait, is that the normal amount for friends? Fuck.

“So you’d do the same thing for, say, Ironhide?” Starscream asks.

“What?” Wheeljack says. “Hell no, have you seen him on the warpath?” and Starscream’s so busy deciphering that—does that mean Wheeljack likes him better than Ironhide?—he doesn’t realize how long they’ve been at Brainstorm’s old lab. 

The blinding light is there, and he has just enough time to hear Wheeljack say “shit” and then he's waking up again.

Starscream bolts out of his office and makes for the lab. He’s halfway there when he turns a corner and nearly collides with Wheeljack coming the opposite direction.

“Are you okay?” Wheeljack asks, and Starscream’s actually more than okay because _Wheeljack_ was coming to get _him_. He just nods, and grabs his hand, and they both turn and head straight out to Brainstorm’s old place.

They didn’t have much more to search, and they finally find the damn thing in one of the last corners they ransack. They rush back to Wheeljack’s lab, and although they’d get there much faster in their vehicle modes, they go together on foot. Starscream has no intention of letting Wheeljack out of his sight until they’re out of this, and Wheeljack has either caught on to that or feels the same. Starscream hopes it’s the latter.

There’s two hours left in the loop when they get back, and Wheeljack immediately starts working on the generator, Starscream assisting any way he can. He can’t do too much, because they don’t have time for Wheeljack to try to explain, so they work in hurried silence.

They finish it with ten minutes to spare.

All they can do is stand there and stare at the generator until 1303 hits.

“If this doesn’t work,” Wheeljack says, “I’ll keep trying. I’m not gonna leave you stuck in this loop, okay?”

“You’re stuck in it too,” Starscream says.

“Well, yeah,” Wheeljack admits, “But I was the one messing around with it. You’re just an innocent bystander.”

Starscream snorts. “I think you’re the first person in the universe to ever call me _innocent_.”

“Aw, you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Starscream says, and ventures, “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a time loop with anyone else.”

“Not even Brainstorm? He probably woulda fixed it faster.”

“Ugh,” says Starscream. “Brainstorm’s insufferable. You, on the other hand, are the best company I could ask for.”

Wheeljack straightens up a little. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” says Starscream, pleased that Wheeljack seems flattered. “I’ve never lied to _you_.”

“Starscream,” Wheeljack says quietly, and Starscream immediately wonders if he shouldn’t have admitted that. “It’s past 1303.”

It is. It’s one minute past. Starscream and Wheeljack, apparently thinking the same thing, stay perfectly still for another two minutes. Just in case. Nothing happens. No blinding light.

“We did it,” Wheeljack breathes, and he starts to laugh. “We did it!” Still laughing, he suddenly wraps Starscream up in a crushing hug. “Thank Primus, we did it!”

Starscream’s trying to recover from the surprise hug, but the hug not being over makes it a little difficult. He _did_ want to hug Wheeljack, and it _is_ extremely pleasant, but he doesn’t really know what to do next. Wheeljack is so gleeful though, that Starscream finds himself laughing along.

“Let’s be honest,” Starscream says. “ _You_ did it.” And before he realizes what he’s doing, he presses a kiss to Wheeljack’s forehead, then immediately freezes. “Shit.”

“What?” says Wheeljack.

“What?” Starscream repeats dumbly.

“Why?” Wheeljack asks.

“What?” Starscream says again, feeling stupider by the second.

“Why?” Wheeljack repeats.

“Why did I… kiss you?” Starscream says, wincing.

“No,” says Wheeljack. “Why did you say ‘shit’ after you did it?”

“Oh.” Starscream notes that for some reason, Wheeljack hasn’t freed him from the hug. “Because I didn’t mean to.”

“Ah,” says Wheeljack. “Well, I… uh, I didn’t mind.”

“You didn’t?” Starscream ponders that. That could either mean what he really hopes (but is also terrified) it means—that Wheeljack likes him romantically—or it could be just another normal thing friends do that Starscream has no clue about. “Does Ironhide do that?” he asks.

“What—no!” Wheeljack’s finials turn pink. “Why do you keep asking what I’d do with Ironhide?”

“Because I don’t understand how friendship works!” Starscream says, exasperated. “I don’t know how to be platonically affectionate.”

“Is that what you were trying to do?” Wheeljack asks, and he actually sounds disappointed.

Starscream doesn’t say anything. Wheeljack slowly releases him from the hug. “That’s fine,” Wheeljack assures him. He must look worried. “I should probably tell you, though, I, uh, my feelings for you are kinda more—”

“I think I’m in love with you!” Starscream blurts out, then claps both hands over his mouth and screams inwardly.

“Oh!” says Wheeljack, his entire face lighting up. “Good! Me too! I mean, uh, ditto?”

Starscream slowly lowers his hands. “What?” he asks, because he honestly can’t believe he heard right.

“I, uh, I think I’m in love with you, too,” Wheeljack says, suddenly looking uncharacteristically shy.

Starscream’s head is spinning. “You are? You’re in love with _me_?”

Wheeljack nods. Starscream is trying to remember if anyone has ever told him that before, but his thoughts are interrupted by Windblade from the doorway.

“Solus Prime have mercy,” she says, and she’s looking at the ceiling. “Why did you make me hear all that with my own audials?”

“Windblade!” Wheeljack sputters. “You were eavesdroppin’?”

“Not on purpose,” she says. “I heard voices in here. Figured I’d check again to see if you were here this time. May I ask what the hell you two have been doing all morning? Besides being painfully dense about each other’s feelings.”

“Uh,” says Wheeljack. “We were tryin’ to fix somethin’. Technically we’ve been doin’ it for eight mornings now.”

“You were,” Starscream says. “I was listening to the same reports a million times.” He turns to Windblade. “Tell Ironhide I already got his report. I can recite parts of it if he doesn’t believe me. And yes, I get why we need to upgrade the water filtration systems and you know what, I don’t really care how dumb your employees are, go ahead and expand your survey committee.”

Windblade takes a minute to absorb that. What she focuses on first, of course, is, “Who exactly are you calling dumb? And what’d you do, download our reports and proposals so you wouldn’t have to meet with us?”

“Oh, I wish that was what I did,” Starscream sighs.

“We were stuck in a time loop of the first half of today,” Wheeljack says. “Eight times. Well, this would be the ninth, I think.”

“Huh,” says Windblade. “I suppose that would explain it.” Apparently not wanting any more information, she makes a quick exit.

Wheeljack turns to Starscream and gets all bashful again. Starscream thinks he rather likes it. “D’ya wanna try redoin’ that kiss?” Wheeljack asks.

“Yes,” Starscream says. Hesitantly, he adds, “Do you think you could explain what it is you love about me? Just because it’s such a rare occurrence.”

“Of course!” says Wheeljack, and he grins. “Might take awhile.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Starscream says, and leans in for that second kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is a picture


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drew some lineart folks


End file.
